Spreadsheets
by lychee loving
Summary: Don't feel too badly, Logan. Anyone would be hardpressed to keep up with the drama over at Mutant High.


Once a week, the senior staff of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Children met in the Professor's ensuite to discuss the finer needs and requirements of running a school as they did. The four adults would sit around a coffee table littered with important forms and documents to be signed and laptops open to consult records. Logan hated it, hated paperwork and red tape of any kind, but who didn't?

"... and I have already phoned our usual contractors; they will be around to survey the damage of the rec room's western wall and have a rough estimate for the bill ready for us by noon tomorrow." Ororo was saying, as she went through her clipboard.

Charles nodded, internally wincing at the thought of writing yet another cheque to pay for more property damage. "All right, thank you Ororo. You're certain Sam is all right?"

Hank piped up. "Perfectly fine; it was a nasty crash, but his invulnerability protected him quite sufficiently. He's suffering from a dizzy spell down in the medlab, but barely has a scratch on him, Charles. His fellow instigators, Bobby and Jubilee, have elected to keep him company."

"I'm glad to hear that." He smiled, and paused. "To follow, I'd like to know if we've agreed on a suitable punishment for our young friends?" His eyes slanted to Logan, who was cross-referencing the latest Danger Room records with ones from the previous month.

"Pending, Chuck. Haven't decided; pretty sure waxing the Blackbird's gotten pretty old for those kids by now. I'll let you know when I come up with something... new."

Ororo eyed her friend reproachfully. "Keep in mind, Logan, that it was an accident. They hadn't meant anyone or anything, any harm."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Doesn't mean they can be careless when they play around like that. Anyway, where was the rest of them when it happened? The two flame twins too caught up in each other to pay attention to the rest of their team again?"

Hank gave his friend a curious glance. "Actually, Logan, Mr. da Costa and Ms. Aquilla broke things off early last week."

"What?" Didn't they get together like a month ago?

Ororo nodded without looking up from where she was wrapping up the minutes of the meeting. "Yes. It wasn't going to work between them. You know how close Amara is to Tabitha."

"... Wait, _what_?"

Charles had a faintly amused smile. "Are you really so surprised, Logan? Surely you've noticed at least that."

He grumbled, and Ororo glanced up at him, wearing a similarly amused grin. "It doesn't stop there, you know. I know for a fact that Tabitha's been eying Piotr..."

Logan balked. "What the flamin'- Boomboom and Petey? I thought - but - he and Half-Pint...?"

Hank chuckled. "Well, Miss Pryde does seem to have a bit of a crush on Piotr, Logan, but she just made up with young Mister Alvers yesterday."

"Again?" He scowled. They broke up last week!

"Yes they did, Logan," Charles answered his thoughts. Logan's head snapped to Charles, intent on chewing him out for reading his mind again, but the Professor was busily tapping away at something on his computer. "And correct me if I'm wrong, Ororo, but that makes it the third time in two months, doesn't it? If this goes on much longer, I may have to ask you to speak to her."

The weather witch sighed. "I've spoken to her about it before, but I'll see what I can do, Charles."

"Perhaps you can talk it over with some of the other girls as well, if it must come to that." he scrolled down on his computer, eyes flitting rapidly up and down... whatever it was he was reading. Logan narrowed his own eyes in dawning suspicion.

"... Chuck. Don't tell me you've got some kinda spreadsheet on the kids' love lives on that thing."

The Professor blinked. Logan was vaguely startled to see an embarrassed blush creep over his ears. "Ah, well... I wouldn't call it that, Logan."

Hank smiled around his cup of Irish coffee. "It's what it is, though. And why not? Anyone would be hardpressed to keep up with our young friends' relationships." He set his cup down and reached for the flat tablet serving as his handheld console, and Logan was startled to see elaborate tables pulled up onscreen by the quick efficient strokes of Hank's fingers...

"Hnnuh." Logan took a closer look, scanning what was apparently a detailed, up-to-date tabulation of the nature of relationships between the kids. "Impressive, in a morbidly creepifyin' sorta way." he turned to Ororo as Hank switched to a tab on the students' medical records, calling up Sam's with a swipe of his index finger. "You got one of these too, darlin'?"

Hank didn't have to look up from his work while he answered for her. "You should know, Logan, that women seem to have an uncanny ability to keep track of this sort of thing. Our dear Ororo is no exception."

Said weather witch merely laughed. "It is also because I get regular updates from the girls. Keeping a record myself would prove counter-productive; it would change by the hour. Far easier to keep it all in here." She tapped the side of her temple gently, and set about straightening her papers.

Logan just scowled. It was weird, feeling out of the loop like this. He was updated on the mansion's security measures, the kids' Danger Room results, hell, even ice hockey statistics. Why was it so hard to keep up with this?

"Don't feel too badly, Logan," chuckled Hank as he noticed his friend's frown. "Most anyone would be hardpressed to keep up with the drama over at Mutant High."

* * *

><p><em>In the fairly recent X-Men anime, Hank has this nifty little gadget that's reminiscent of an iPad, which comes across as Fridge Brilliance to me since his fingers would be a little too big for a regular keyboard.<em>

_And this was a loving parody of all the relationship drama that would go down at the X-Mansion, since I think it's fair to assume that mutant teens are likely to date among themselves. Exaggerated somewhat, of course. But this is certainly what it seems like, going by all the pairings we see here on FFnet :| _


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